


Gentle

by imsorryjesus



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Manhandling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsorryjesus/pseuds/imsorryjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why do you people write Maccready as suave and sexy, he is a tiny dork. And he should be tossed around more and love it, and I'm not just saying that because it is 100% my kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> Man I was going to make this a full porn but I'm lazy and also I haven't done this in a while so my dignity had some time to reassemble itself. Enjoy this weird short thing, I guess. Changed my SS's name as it will be a cold day in hell before I admit to this den of sin I have created over here. Also I really love that Dolly Parton song.

Lucy was gentle. Lucy was all sweet sighs and soft touches, and sometimes she seemed like a ghost under his weight. Maccready could have simply touched her for hours (he did, the few times they were safe and warm). She was silk, so fragile, and he loved her.

He didn't know anything else until long after, when his desperation drove him away from the little boy he had to save. No matter where he went or whose path he crossed, the road was always long and lonely. Men and women fell on each other at every two-light bar and guttering campfire he passed. They pretended it was something they needed. He did, too, when guilt and grief got too loud in his head. The road taught him it could be quick and scattered, and best served cold. God, he hated how he needed it.

He first kissed Jolene after two months. Simply put, she'd saved Duncan's life, and he couldn't hold back anymore. She was magnetic. She treated him like he deserved something good. So, he kisses her, and it felt a lot like Lucy at first - her hands on his shoulders, and the painfully raw way she looked at him. But she was steel, not silk. And she's goddamn good at getting under people's skin, his especially. So the second time is a little different.

The second time, she spends their first hour at the Rexford winding him up. A bath is followed by a review of several schematics for settlement defenses. At first he kicks back on the bed, but his impatience gets the better of him, and he sits in the other chair next to her, silently willing her to have mercy on him. He almost gets to thinking she's changed her mind, until she suggests killing time at the Third Rail, and his "oh, _come_ on" gets her to flash clean white teeth in a teasing grin. She's too goddamn good at riling him up. He's resolved to never let on that he likes it. In this moment, he crosses his arms over his chest and drawls, "I'll go easy on you, honest."

Jo snorts, but doesn't answer, just gets up. Rather than going out the door, however, she locks it. The look on her face when she turns back dries his throat right out. He holds eye contact admirably well as she strolls back to him. Her voice is no less warm for its scratchiness. "I don't think you'd even know how to get rough, Mac."

The patronizing lilt to it makes him glare at her, momentarily distracted. "Oh, yeah? How w-"

She throws a leg over his thighs and slides onto his lap without preamble. Whatever he was about to say is lost as his brain trips over itself. His body's response is to freeze up automatically - he hasn't done anything like this in a _long_ time - but she looks completely at ease. She casually crosses her arms behind his neck and shuffles her hips a bit farther forward, coaxing a little noise from him that makes him blush. His fingers dart to the hem of her pants, searching needily for the skin underneath. Shit, it _has_ been a while. He may have put himself in a bit of a spot here.

"I know you pretty well," Jo confides, face very close to his. "I know you're a very good man pretending to be a very bad man. I know you're used to taking care of everyone else first. I don't think you could tell me what you want if I asked you to."

He feels himself straining forward just the tiniest bit, but it seems silly to play at composure now. _You, you, I want you._

"And even if I didn't know you, I'm pretty damn good at reading people. And sleeping with people. I think at least in this situation-" she rolls her hips, he bites his lip- "I have an idea of how to take care of you."

Her fingers are toying with the hairs at the base of his skull. It would be almost soothing, if he wasn't coiled tight as a spring right now."How's that?", he manages.

He expects her to keep talking. He does not expect the hand at his scalp to grip and _pull_. She yanks his head back without warning - sparks flare across his skin, and his grip on her waist goes completely slack. The sound that tears up out of his chest is anything but angry. It makes Jo grin. "Thought you'd like that," she says smugly. Before he can work up to an answer, she dips forward to plant her mouth on his throat, muffling her laugh against his skin. The hand in his hair eases up just a little, but still holds him in place - as if he would dream of fighting back now. Overwhelmed as his brain might be, his body is dead certain it's up for this. Whatever this is. It's definitely not gentle, but _Jesus_ , he doesn't want her to stop.

She turns his head a little farther, only to bite the meet of his neck and shoulder. He trembles like a plucked string, which she must notice, because she leaves the spot stinging to speak into his ear. "I didn't want to overstep last time." There's that familiar warm note, that subdued humor she charmed him with. "But I guessed you might like some rougher treatment. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

His tongue feels like lead, but he breathes out a " _Please_ don't" that makes her chuckle. "I meant later, dummy." She does oblige him, though. Teeth tug on his earlobe, and she murmurs, "God, I bet you'll look good begging."

He could start pleading now, honestly. He should probably start praying. She drags herself back to his throat without warning, sucking at a new spot closer to his jaw. "Jo," he gasps, for lack of anything intelligent to say. His hands cling to her hips again, more to ground himself than anything else. He knows she can feel his pulse hammering under her lips. She's pulling blood up to the skin, and it feels _really_ good, and if she keeps moving her ass like that he hopes she can live with him cutting this short and fucking her half-dressed on top of those stupid schematics-

Someone knocks on the door.

"Jolene! You in there?"

The slick female voice vaguely registers as someone moderately important. Jo seems to recognize it; the dirty look she shoots at the door seems personal. "Yeah," she calls reluctantly, "gimme a minute." The interruption doesn't seem to bother her too much, though, since she's grinning when she glances back down at him. Or maybe he just looks funny. He is breathing like he just ran a mile. He has to work to pry his fingers off this time, and his voice already sounds halfway to wrecked when he mumbles, "I can't believe you."

"It's Fahrenheit," she answers apologetically. "Which means it's Hancock, and I definitely don't want him strolling in here because I blew him off."

She's got a point. He's also really bad at arguing when he's sufficiently turned on. He settles for glaring at her, which stops as soon as she presses a quick kiss to the corner of his slack mouth. "I'll be quick, I swear."

"At least...tell me what I have to look forward to."

The way she pets at his stinging scalp is completely at odds with the look in her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea. I'm gonna chew you up and spit you out."


End file.
